A Gryffindor's Heart for Courage
by SailorSilvanesti
Summary: [Day 1 Infinity Challenge Prompt: Hogwarts] The day Neville has been dreading all year long has finally arrived once again, although this time, his grandmother is no longer able to provide comfort and stability. Ron is also dreading the day,for very different reasons, though; what do you say? What can you do to help? The redhead fears upsetting the other. Established RedVines. R&R.


**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in Harry Potter, however, RedVines was sort of something we came up with on my page through collaboration.**

**I am partaking in the INFINITY CHALLENGE, 30 Days, 30 Prompts per OTP.**

**From the Potter Fandom, I have chosen: Ron/Neville, or 'RedVines'.**

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**INFINITY CHALLENGE: HARRY POTTER**

**[Unusual OTP: Ron/Neville]**

**Ship Name: REDVINES**

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**Day 1: Hogwarts Prompt**

**~*A Gryffindor's Heart for Courage*~**

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Condensation fogged up the small patch of window that piercing blue eyes stared out through, flinching as pale skin briefly brushed against the cold glass that a small horde of raindrops were pounding resolutely against.

He sighed sadly, turning away from the ominous visage of heavy grey clouds packing the sky, clutching both hands to the rapidly-cooling mug of what had once been piping-hot tea in some exotic flavour he probably couldn't pronounce. Something told him that the fact he had awoken to the sight of the blood-red beverage container quietly steaming on his bedside dresser, was a sign that the house elf Dobby was taking his promise to Harry rather seriously. '_Look after Master's Wheezy_' indeed.

A smile had briefly flickered across his face at the sight, but died as the realisation of the day's significance made its way through the fuzzy sleep-induced haze. The redhead groaned loudly as yesterday's Quidditch practice caught up to his present, alerting him that he had strained more than a few muscles despite the restful night of sleep he'd had by aching dully. Though, to be fair, it was _quite_ early.

Unusual though it was for him, the youngest male Weasley had awoken far earlier than was his norm; especially given the circumstances. Perhaps it was anxiety?

No matter the reason, he had made a promise and fully intended to keep it no matter what petty excuses came to mind. Thunder grumbled through the skies as he rolled both shoulders, popping and cracking everything physically possible; sighing in satisfaction as tired muscles responded to the gentle stretching.

The cup clattered as he placed it back on the nightstand to be collected later by the House Elves who came in, every day without fail, to change the sheets and clean the sparsely occupied dormitory. Part of him wished Harry was here right now, but on the other hand, he hoped his best mate was having the time of his life on his first real holiday in… well, _ever_. Those Dursley muggles didn't strike him as the type to take vacations to exotic places, much less bring along the nephew they utterly loathed with abandon.

The Grangers were just the balm to help heal the damage done by those fat idiots, and since Harry was dating Hermione, it only made sense to drag the teen along on their family holiday to the ski fields of… actually, he couldn't remember. He really needed to pay more attention when those two were talking at him… er_, to him_.

Wasn't really his fault if he'd been distracted by a certain brunette across the table from him…

His heart felt heavy within his chest as the subject came around once again; constricting almost painfully as his ocean-coloured eyes swept across the room to the only other occupant of the dorms at this time of year.

Brown hair obscured half of the visible face, seeming strangely childlike and vulnerable in the early morning light. One arm wound about a pillow, with rumpled sheets twisted all about the other, which made the redhead smile; he looked, as his mother would put it, 'as snug as a bug in a rug'.

The only things marring the visage of tranquillity before him were the faint tear tracks still visible on the other boy's pale cheeks. Sad reminders from the night before, when muffled sobs had echoed through the almost-empty dormitory as his brunette angel had tried to conceal all the conflicting emotions of worry, grief and pain in his soul from the only other occupant, until Ron could stand it no longer.

He remembered flinging the sheets off his own bed and taking the necessary steps across the cold, dark floor to the other boy; sitting upon the side of the bed until long into the night, just stroking the soft strands of his hair and listening to the endless stream of incoherent babbling as the shaking teen let grief-stricken words tumble from trembling lips. Because that's what boyfriends do.

This time of year was always hard on Neville, but now…

Ron sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, why must terrible things happen to good people? What possible crime had Neville _insanely-adorable _Longbottom committed against the universe that it had it out for him? It just didn't add up.

For the umpteenth time this week he wished that the both of them were home –his home, the Burrows- because if anyone knew how to help his boyfriend, it was his mother. Molly Weasley was a formidable, but knowledgeable woman… and hands down the best mother on the entire planet; and Ron would sell his prized Chudley Cannons memorabilia to have her beside him right now.

She would know what to say to Neville to help him through this. His mother would probably then round on Ron and tell her youngest boy to stop being so self-centred, that the boy on that bed needed his strength and love more now than ever before so he'd better get to it!

But she wasn't here.

Molly Weasley was many, many miles distant at the Burrows, running from one room to the next, up and down the winding staircases, tending to her ailing brood as they suffered through some insane experimentation of the twins gone wrong. Some form of new Skiving Snackbox treat had not gone to plan and actively poisoned both Fred and George, who had not shown symptoms until after accidentally exposing the rest of the family by sending some prototype 'Plague Pralines' back to the Burrow. The package had been meant to go to their room, of course, but as fate –and their insanely old owl Errol- would have it, they landed on the Kitchen table where his parents had thought them a gift and shared them with their visiting children.

The only member who had been unaffected other than himself was Ginny, but as fate would have it, she –and several other of the twins classmates including their best friend, Lee Jordan- came into direct physical contact with the identical duo; which was apparently how this disease spread. When the twins and their friends fell ill, Dumbledore owled their parents to inform them that St Mungos would be personally looking into this case –for the twins had yet to devise an antidote at the time of contraction, and were currently in no fit state to do any concocting at the current time.

Molly Weasley had firmly responded that her three ill children must return home immediately, fortuitously days before the Christmas Holidays, as her household was already affected and it would cause more bother for them to be within the school's walls. The Headmaster had queried after her own health in concern, but was politely rebutted; nothing short of, or perhaps even, the killing curse itself could force Molly Weasley down and out when her family was in danger.

In any case, she reasoned, St Mungos could easily apprise her of any progress by owl, but the question of what to do with Ron, and Neville – who had been residing at the Weasley abode with boyfriend and family for almost a full year now, after his dear Gran had passed away peacefully just after the previous Christmas- ,was answered by Professor Dumbledore himself. The pair would be accommodated within the school grounds for as long as was necessary, and she should not worry herself over them, as Professor McGonagall would take a personal interest in their welfare. Which Ron had been certain was secret adult code for '_McGonagall will make sure they don't do anything too ludicrous while you are too indisposed to chastise them'_, he supposed he ought to be grateful to the man. Maybe they should get him a nice pair of socks for Christmas?

Blinking rapidly back to the present, Ron looked around in surprise at the sudden silence; it seemed oddly eerie after the monotonous pounding of raindrops all morning long. Illogical as it seemed, snow was slowly drifting from the skies in languid, dreamy dances, each flashing and shining briefly before touching down to castle and grounds below. Ah well, no time better than the present to awaken the other…

Neville liked the snow, it reminded him of a time back when… well, before his parents had been-…

Come to think of it, the redhead squinted out the window thoughtfully, this sudden change of weather had Dumbledore written all over it; wouldn't surprise him the least if the old Headmaster had tried to lighten the brevity of the day with a happy memory. As if to prove his thoughts true, the descending snowflakes began to change into a myriad of colours, creating a multi-coloured tableau below that was sure to draw the other's interest.

_Bless the crazy old man_, Ron thought to himself, _he was quite brilliant at times_.

"R-Ron?" croaked a sleep-laced voice as tired eyes appeared through hooded lids. At the sound of his name, the redhead whirled about and strode over to the bed he'd slipped out of earlier, mattress depressing slightly as he sat down.

"I'm here, Nev. It's, uh, still a little early if you want to go back to sleep, I can wake you later." he offered the yawning boy lying by his side who playfully swatted him, laughing tiredly.

"_'m already awake_, Ron, lying here thinking isn't going to do me much good on a day like this, might as well get up and get dressed already. Hang on, you great ginger perv, were you watching me sleep?" Neville asked playfully, the humour in his voice not quite reaching his eyes, and Ron apparently didn't answer quickly enough… as he was swiftly swatted by a pillow, going down in a hail of half-serious protests and laughter.

The brunette let out an exaggerated sigh and sat up, shucking blankets aside right and left as if nothing was wrong; business as usual. As if today was nothing more than an ordinary day for both of them.

"And another thing… you can stop watching me so intensely, my blue-eyed hawk, this isn't the first time I've done this," Neville smiled widely, sliding out of bed and facing away from his concerned boyfriend as he whispered barely audibly, "…_I won't break._"

"Neville, listen to me… I know, and I can't believe how strong you are for doing this on an annual scale, but this time is different to back then. Er, I mean this time you don't have-… um, well, your Gran is… well, she's gone to a better place, and, uh… this time all you've got …is me. And I'll be honest, I'm not really sure what I can offer you… I mean, when it comes to comfort I'm no Hufflepuff, but-…"

The redhead was vibrantly aware that he was rambling, but just couldn't seem to stop the verbal floodtide now that he'd managed to slip the most difficult two pieces of sensitive information into the same conversation… he felt like he HAD to keep going. As if rushing past them at great speed would somehow lessen the blow of discussing the subjects, which was exceedingly illogical, but then again, Hermione was usually the one that did this sort of thinking for him –stop him from saying anything too stupid.

Neville's two fingers came up and touched his lips, gently hushing the gushing torrent of babble he failed to contain on his own. The words were whispered over his lips as the mouth that uttered them came closer, "_We're Gryffindors, Ron, if anyone can get through something like this, it's a Gryffindor. I can be brave… as long as you are holding my hand._" Their lips touched briefly, more for the sake of contact than anything else; this was to be expected, as both parties had other things on their minds at the time, but the familiar intimacy was nice.

Stepping back, the brunette smiled genuinely for the first time that morning, "Come along, your Majesty… we have to get ready, McGonagall promised to apparate us both to, uh, …to St Mungos right after breakfast." The Herbology-enthusiast seemed excessively pleased with confounding his beloved redhead, and had immediately taken to referring to Ron as 'Your Majesty' or 'Your Highness' after the negative connotations of the '_Weasley is Our King_' incident died down. It was now a source of endless amusement… and a brilliant source of motivation to make the Keeper get a hustle on in times of dire stubbornness. "If it pleases your Highness, of course…"

Neville was a surprisingly funny person, when you got past the layer of ingrained shyness and silent self-preservation instincts. That fact alone both endeared the brunette to the youngest male Weasley, and frustrated him on an almost daily basis. In this case, it worked in Neville's favour; Ron responding to the taunting by throwing his best dress robes –a surprisingly sincere gift from Fred & George that he just knew came from Harry- on in a flurry of activity. Neville mirroring the actions at a reduced pace.

An officious rapping came at the door. "Misters Weasley and Longbottom, are you awake and decent?" called Professor McGonagall, already opening the door without awaiting an answer. She stared at the boys through her pince-nez glasses, a concerned expression sitting unusually on her normally-stern face. "I came to make certain you are both awake and ready for breakfast. Do you have everything you need to take with you or is there anything we will need to purchase from Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley beforehand?" the Transfiguration Professor asked.

Ron looked to Neville, who in turn petted his pockets to make certain everything was as it should be, and then shook his head. "No, uh, I mean no I don't need to get anything, but thank you for asking, Professor. I've got everything I need right here." His hand snaked into Ron's and clasped tightly to emphasise the point.

Visibly restraining herself from either smiling or rolling her eyes, the Head of Gryffindor nodded. "Be that as it may, you would do well to hurry downstairs and have something to eat to keep your strength up. I have requested the House Elves make your meals a wee bit earlier than usual today, so that we may be off on time. Now hurry along, you two." She swept the pair from the room without further ado.

Little was said over the well-meant spread of various breakfast foods, all of which went largely untouched as the pair grew increasingly nervous of the coming task. "We… we don't _have_ to do this now if you're not ready, Nev." Ron offered with a mouth half-full of bacon and eggs.

The other placed down his fork, foregoing stabbing the lone sausage lying on his plate in favour of giving up on the idea of eating any more food altogether. Visibly sighing, Neville responded, "Ron, I know you mean well and I love you for it, but… I do have to do this. Even if it scares me to go and see them; even if it tears out a piece of my soul every time I look at their blank eyes and see no recognition for who and what I am to them, I have to go. After all, with Gran finally gone, they're the only family I have left… besides you, that is."

Ron dropped his fork, also giving in. As delectable as the toast and assorted jams looked, should he take another bite, the redhead might not make the apparition without being violently, and colourfully, ill all over the place. Definitely not a good first impression to make on future in-laws…

Even if said potential in-laws would probably never know his name or understand what he meant to the son they did not remember; the attempt would be made… for Neville's sake. To visit his parents, like he and his gran had done every year during the school's Christmas holidays.

McGonagall had seemingly noticed their lack of appetite and appeared beside them at the empty-of-all-but-them Gryffindor Table, with nary a sound. "Are you ready to go now, Mister Longbottom?" she questioned, looking directly at Neville, who was shaking slightly now that the implications of today's visit had sunk in. Normally his grandmother would appoint a time to go and a time to be home by, and they would abide by it, come hell or high water… but this was entirely up to him for the very first time, and he required a little bit of forceful handling.

Ron took charge, "It's alright, Nev, trust me. Yeah, Professor, we're ready to go…" He pushed out from the table and stood up, proceeding to walk around the end of the table to grab Neville from where he seemed suddenly frozen in place. The redhead rubbed his boyfriend's upper arms a little from behind, a precise movement that was non-threatening and comforting, continuing for a moment until the other teen jerked out of his trance.

"Wha-? Yes Professor, sorry Professor, I was just-… We can go now."

With an elegant gesture, Professor McGonagall waved away his fumbled apologies. "No need to apologise Mister Longbottom, we can wait until you are ready to go. For now, there is a carriage awaiting us at the front of the castle, and Thestrals do not like the cold so we must make haste."

A multi-coloured multitude of freshly-fallen snow was a dazzling sight for the eyes, and it greeted the three as they slid out of the main castle doors, and directly into the waiting carriage that would ferry them to Hogsmeade, so that the Professor might apparate them both to their destination.

Throughout the short journey, snowflakes of all colours and designs fell upon the travellers; McGonagall attempted to keep a straight, even expression as she batted them about like a kitten with string, and Neville kept catching them in a palm as he rested his head on Ron's shoulder. It really was a winter wonderland…

Despite the contented haze that fell over the pair, Ron could have sworn McGonagall kept darting glances at them before muttering, "_The Headmaster has really outdone himself with this feat of magical tomfoolery…"_

Blinking in surprise, Ron noticed the carriage had stopped… some time ago if McGonagall's expression was read correctly. "Oh, er, what? Sorry Professor, I was just… thinking about things." He disembarked with Neville close on his heels, the Professor turning without a word and striding into the snow-laden but empty streets of early-morning Hogsmeade. When they reached the town centre, McGonagall turned to face the pair and gestured for them to come close.

Wordlessly they assented and strode to her sides, each feeling her hand fall upon their shoulders, gripping tightly as the world faded from normal perspective into one of indescribable scenery and strange sensations. Resolving again into the foyer of St Mungos, the trio standing amidst the designated appararition and deapparating zone, which was a recent addition that actively lessened the amont of accidental cross-being splinching, wherein two persons attempted to occupy the same space in time, at the same time. The new enchantments directed an incoming witch, wizard or passenger only to a free space.

Ron was proud to say his father had had a hand in the system's development.

An elderly nurse promptly greeted them –well, Neville at the least- by name. Tugging on Neville's cheek and commenting on how much he had grown, asking all the obligatory questions one might expect from a silvered-haired great aunty who had trapped their favourite grand-niece or nephew in a corner at a family re-union. Eventually, she led them down a series of hallways that the brunette already seemed to know by heart, and left them standing in front of a pair of large, magically sealed doors.

Professor McGonagall wordlessly made it clear she was going to wait outside, and stood off to one side, by the large sign on the right wall that read, 'Janus Thickey Ward'. The ward for magical maladies that could not be cured by modern magics.

The ward… wherein Neville's parents waited for someone they could not remember, and the person who loved him.

Neville was shaking a little, his lips moving over and over in a small dance that Ron realised was words, and leant in to hear more clearly. '_Gryffindors are brave and courageous, I am a Gryffindor, I can do this… Gryffindors are brave and courageous, I am a Gryffindor, I can do this… Gryffindors are brave and courageous, I am a Gryffindor, I can do this…_' Neville breathed.

The redhead smiled, pecking the other boy on the cheek to cease the muttering, and sliding his warm hand into the shaking one of the boy he loved most. He felt fingers reflexively clutch tightly about his own and wisely said nothing as he stared at the doors… silently asking whether the other felt ready or not to do this.

Neville moved closer almost imperceptibly, to whisper, "_With you by my side, and your hand in mine, I am brave enough to do anything…_"

In unison, the pair stepped forwards, and the doors began to open… and neither of them felt afraid, for the other's courage filled them with strength.

**~The End~**

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**To be honest, I write the first thing that comes into my head upon seeing the prompt, so I hope this made sense to all of you.**

**If you liked it, or even if you didn't, let me know.**

**~*SailorSilvanesti/Phoenix Fire*~**


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